An Unexpected Outcome
by Secretevilsister
Summary: I remember my old life, but what am I supposed to do with these memories? I guess they might make me more interesting than the average greaser... and give me a lot of trouble and pain. Especially now that I'm five with a six year old brother named Johnny Cade. (GEN)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer - I don't own the Outsiders**

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 _(Written in a different language than English, but one I can't remember the name of)_

May 10, 1952

In the past life I lead, I was… older, definitely older. Perhaps in my twenties. I was aiming for a great career in university. I think something related to the sciences. I had a family. I HAD a brother who was smart, funny, weird, and completely crazy at times. He was my closest friend. My parents were strange too. But they weren't a brand of crazy like my brother. They were unfamiliar, but comfortable.

I think… no, I know that I liked my life.

I was beginning to make something of myself.

But something happened. I can't remember what. There was a lot of pain and that's it. I can't remember anything. I CAN'T. I can only remember general facts about my past life. I think my memories are slowly disappearing. Why are they disappearing? I want - I need these memories. Why is this happening to me?

…

If my memories are going to disappear, I'll write them down. I'll carve them in stone if I have to. These memories are MINE. Nothing can take them from me.

 _Please don't take them from me._

Although my memories are disappearing, I remember enough to know I'm not me. I have my thoughts and personality (at least I hope so) but my body is completely different. And from what I can tell, my skin is darker than before. Which is to say, I'm not Asian anymore. I'm also much younger than my previous age. I think around the age of three to five. (I'm so glad I don't remember my second "birth")

I have a new family. I have a father, mother, and a brother whom I think is a year older than me. They are very different from my past family. My old parents were very scientific and utilitarian, but they cared a lot about their children and expected much for them. My new parents, from what I can see, don't care about me and my brother much. They feed us, clothe us, bathe us, and do enough so that we don't look like homeless children, but they are more into their own lives than ours. They spend excessively on booze, makeup, and clothes when even I can tell that we cannot afford to. They seem to be stuck in their pasts and do not want to move forward. I don't like them. But my new brother is adorable! He is so cute. He has these large black eyes and chubby face so when he pouts, my heart melts!

But not only am I not the same person, I'm not in the same time period as before. There are no color TVs, laptop computers, or cell phones. Technology is old or useless, at least, compared to the ones that I had. I admit, part of the reason I'm writing this is because it is so boring here. Being a child is equivalent to being helpless and BORING. There is nothing to do for a child when the house is barren of books and board games. And when your cute, adorable, brother is sleeping yet again.

It's so quiet.

Scratch that, "mother" and "father" are yelling at each other again.

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 **Thank you for reading**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer - I do not own the Outsiders**

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May 14th, 1952

For the past two days I've taken a habit of sitting on the couch in front of the black and white TV. Partially because the TV is the only source of entertainment in this house. But more importantly, it's the best place to observe my parents without seeming like a complete creeper.

My mother is a short, narcotically thin woman with dark skin. I think she is anorexic. No one can be that thin unless they don't eat enough food or eat food and throw it up. Its probably the latter. My mother always eats breakfast, lunch, and dinner at a regulated time with the same foods, and the foods she eats are more or less balanced in their calories. If she is anorexic, I don't yet understand why she makes herself so thin, but I hope its not for her looks. Because she would look a lot better if she weren't so thin.

In the house, she usually wears dark, long dresses. When she goes out, she wears brightly colored long dresses and cakes make up on her face so that her eyes are emphasized and her cheekbones don't show as much. She spends at least an hour in front of the mirror putting make up on. And she does this everyday. She doesn't seem to like putting on makeup though. She always curses loudly when makeup gets in her eye or her lip gloss went the wrong way.

As soon as her make up is finished, she leaves the house. Which also happens every day. She only stays long enough to make sure my brother and I are alive. I don't think father knows that she does this. Because whenever father comes back and asks what she's been doing all day, she replies, "I took care of the children." Then father gives a little grunt and goes to the kitchen for dinner.

Father, unlike mother, is not short but isn't tall either. He is of average height for a male. And unlike mother, father doesn't care much for his clothes, but he sure cares for his alcohol. And work.

When he comes back from work around eight o'clock at night, the first thing he asks for is a bottle of beer. Then he moves onto some harder drinks and slurs about his work. Often, he talks about his co-workers, his bitchy manager, and the customers he had. He doesn't care who he talks to as long as they are paying attention. Which means, it's either my mother, me, or my brother. My mother usually places either me or my brother in front of father and escapes into the bedroom.

My father always wants our full attention when he talks about his day. He gets very angry when we don't. Yesterday, he almost hit my brother when the boy yawned. I shouldn't let my brother listen to father anymore. He's very young and at least I'm old enough - mentally - to have mastered the art of pretending to listen.

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Thank you for reading


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